


skin & bones

by iniquiticity



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Essek Week (Critical Role), Essek Week - AU, Evil AU, Flirting, Level 20 AU, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-04
Updated: 2020-04-04
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:56:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,155
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23479570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iniquiticity/pseuds/iniquiticity
Summary: Essek could have done fine without the drow empire he ruled, had it only been his many experimental chambers and books and his "friend," the archlich. He enjoyed Caleb's visits very much.
Relationships: Essek Thelyss/Caleb Widogast
Comments: 10
Kudos: 108





	skin & bones

**Author's Note:**

> as always, i can be reached on tumblr at [iniquiticity](http://iniquiticity.tumblr.com), or on twitter at [@iniquiticity](https://twitter.com/iniquiticity)

One of Essek's wards went off. Something powerful arrived.

Lazily, he brought himself from inside of the beacon and back to reality. His fingers slid from the softly glowing bits of it which had been inset into the arms of the throne and allowed him to access the dunamis. He was formally styled as the Kingshadow, a play on his old title and the mockery of the woman he'd deposed, but they often called him the Still King, instead. He would sit in that chair, motionless, distant from his body. He preferred the threads of the universe.

When he opened his eyes he saw the abyss that he had created around his throne, and on the other side a place for permitted audiences to prostrate themselves.

The guest came closer. Magic tasted like rot in his mouth, and he smiled. It had been a while.

"Kingshadow," said Caleb, brushing past the stone spiders at the entryway Essek could spring to life to attack his enemies. He had made them spiders as a joke; even now it was still funny. Caleb gave him a little bow, barely mocking, and Essek nodded back at him.

"Widogast," he said, leaning on the arm of the throne. He felt the magic of Caleb's disguise and permitted it. Caleb played favorites with fake faces and usually wore the face Essek had met him in, centuries ago: red hair, pale skin, blue eyes, with a dark tunic with stylized designs on it. Back in his Vollstrecker days, when there had been vollstrecker. Back then Caleb had been assigned to kill him, and he had convinced Caleb otherwise. He had promised Caleb that there was more to do, if you were his ally, than his enemy. Caleb, brilliant man that he was, understood.

"Maybe it has been a while and we haven't spoken," Caleb said, "How goes the fabric of the universe?"

It was a joke. Caleb's fascination was with time; he certainly knew exactly when they had seen eachother last. Caleb was getting closer and closer to travelling through time entirely, Essek understood. His current form was just means to that end.

Essek pushed off the throne and lazily floated over the abyss, closer to Caleb. This close the strength of his power trickled through Essek, not unpleasantly. With a blink he could see through the disguise and saw Caleb truly: the pale skull with the glowing embers for eyes and the bits of flesh still hanging off; the tears and tatters of a robe; skeletal arms and bony fingers in pockets. He blinked and he saw the disguise again.

"Not a trip for pleasure, then?" Essek said, gesturing. They walked through the still, silent halls of the Lucid Bastion. There were still some dens, though many fewer with consecution without his explicit permission, and of course many of the old dens had needed to be purged, in his war against the misplaced theocracy that had dominated the drow.

"For research," Caleb said, "I was hoping you might permit a few hours in your library."

"I would be honored to join you," Essek said. Caleb nodded, knowingly, and they set off towards the conservatory.

Caleb had perfected a skill to jump his wretched, undead soul into mortal forms now, twisted things that he picked from the street and shattered so he could inhabit them. When he wanted to taste food, or be drunk, he used them. They also were very useful for bedroom activities.

He and Caleb had laid in bed, centuries ago, and he had convinced Caleb he was a much more worthwhile leader than this Ikithon. It had been their first real team-up, to eliminate the old Cerberus Assembly. It had been a good challenge, the empire wizards. These days, the Candles - the district in Rexxentrumm where the wizards had lived - was dominated by a crater filled with ghosts that could not enter Rexxentrumm proper. They were trapped in the smoking hole until Caleb chose to release them.

It was the flair for revenge that Essek admired, among many other things.

He had left the Dwendals to rule the empire; such things, he told Essek, bored him. The Dwendals obeyed him when he asked, and that was fine. Queen Elessandria Dwendal, the present ruler, was almost a good enough chess player to beat him, which Caleb said absolutely delighted him.

Essek had been to his floating tower, which he travelled around Exandria in, doing research and tracking down powerful artifacts for his time obsession. He looked up and saw the bottom of it, black stone with the red veins of lava from where he’d torn it from Rumblecusp. 

"As you see, I brought das Leuchtfeuer with me, so pleasure could be arranged." Caleb tilted his head. "I did not want to be forward."

The guards did not stare, of course, as they entered the library. Essek still adored that feeling of being lost in the corridors of books. Of being surrounded by the endless knowledge. Of storing every thought, every event, every action. 

Buried in the stacks, Caleb's skeletal hand, illusion or no illusion, wrapped around his shoulder and stopped him. Blue eyes watched him with no small hunger. He reached out and touched Caleb's chest. The illusion said tunic, but he felt the bits of fabric and breastbone and the hum of raw power.

"It's so uncommon to be satisfied," Essek said, "Certainly you know."

"It’s true," Caleb said. He pulled away and walked through the Conservatory shelves. He obviously had an idea of what he was looking for, studying titles until he found a thin, shabby tome, impossibly old. He put it down and Essek sat next to him and they talked about magic for a while, and there was a part of Essek that was always amazed and impressed at Caleb Widogast. He was very glad to have met Widogast, to have him as his ally-sometimes-bedmate. To have someone so powerful and capable his closest leader. To have such a kindred spirit in all the ways that they were. They spoke for some time; certainly Caleb knew how long, but they were not pressed by any other duties to stop.

It was enjoyable, to talk to Caleb. The only person, by some loose definition of "person", that he actually enjoyed talking to, really. He could have done fine without the drow empire, had itonly been his many experimental chambers and books and his "friend," the archlich.

Caleb's bony fingers teased his arm. It made him think about how much he wanted Caleb to work for it, him, the pleasure. Strange, and oddly delightful, the warmth that those skeletal fingers could cause to curl in his stomach.

"Would you get your thrall, Caleb?" Essek asked, finally, grabbing one of those metacarpals between his thumb and forefingers. 

"I suppose I can be done studying for the day," Caleb said, "I will change and meet you in your chambers."


End file.
